


The Garden

by Namarea



Category: Original Work, Poetry - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1391764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarea/pseuds/Namarea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And original poem written late one night, after several days of insomnia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Garden

I entered a garden alone.

A garden where no garden was known before.

In a wall of self-preservation,

Which I assumed encompassed the garden,

And hidden behind vines of bitterness and mistrust,

I found a door, long-forgotten.

 

Entrance was not easily gained,

But gentleness, kindness and understanding

Were the keys to the locks

Which held the beauty of the garden prisoner.

Coupled with gentle persuasion,

At last access was provided.

 

Once inside I descended a stone staircase

Into a world long-since touched by human devotion.

How sad, I thought,

That a place once surely so wondrous

Should now lie in utter ruin,

Crumbling and dying.

 

A cold, damp mist of hopelessness

Shrouded the lonely watchtowers,

Clung to the rapidly decaying dreams

Planted here when the garden was young;

Nurtured through the years,

Destroyed by knowledge and conformity.

 

The misery of the garden was oppressive

And I feared contagious.

Retreat seemed the only logical answer.

However, this garden desperately needed

And logic had no place here.

Running away was not an alternative.

 

I descended once again,

But this time to the very edge of the garden

Where it bordered the sea of contentment.

As the waves gently kissed the shore

I marveled that such constancy could remain

Despite the pain that the garden had endured.

 

I walked along the shore a short distance

And happened upon a small cave.

It must have been carved eons ago

By the surging tides of hope.

Now, however, it seemed bleak, dark,

And, by closer inspection, completely alone.

 

With curiosity overriding fear,

I cautiously entered the cave.

The small fire of courage I lit

Cast long, foreboding shadows on the walls,

And revealed the secrets of the garden

Which had been etched there over time.

 

The cave was called remembrance,

And on the walls were the clues I needed

To unravel the mystery

Of the downfall of the garden.

This place was once a storehouse

Of future fantasies yet to be planted.

 

Now, all that remained

Was a solitary, crystalline seed of hope.

I took it and returned to the garden.

There I built a shelter from the storms of despair,

A place of warmth and security,

And planted it there.

 

Tenderness made fertile the soil.

Watered by tears of compassion,

And withstanding many tests,

The seed began to sprout

And take root.

Soon hope would begin to grow on it own.

 

Faith could now take root.

Joy was beginning to blossom once again,

And as trust wove a tapestry of colorful beauty,

The choking thorns of anger and deceit

Slowly began to wither and die.

The transformation of the garden was miraculous.

 

Though it has been years since my journey

Into that breathtaking garden of the soul,

It has never allowed me to forget.

I left a part of myself

Trapped within the walls,

And I carry a part of it with me always.

 

I entered the garden alone;

But I gave of myself

All that was mine to give,

And in giving,

Found so much in return,

Discovered so much of myself.

 

I entered the garden alone;

I departed...with a friend.


End file.
